And Neither Am I
by BiteMeTechie
Summary: McKay tries to convince himself that he's not falling for Cadman, and fails just as miserably. *Companion to "I'm Not!"* REVISED!
1. I Most Certainly Am Not!

_Revision A/N:_ _As part of my New Year's Resolution, I've decided to get off my ass and revise/rewrite/repost all my favorite fics that are in desperate need of some polish because ff dot net has deleted more of my scene breaks and em dashes that I can count, damn it. I'll be uploading at **least** one chapter a day until I'm all through. This includes my current WIPs, so if you've been waiting for me to get to work on something specific, it'll probably happen during the revision process. Hooray!_

_This story is the companion to "I'm Not!" which is told from Laura Cadman's point of view; this one is told from Rodney McKay's. Reading "I'm Not!" first is definitely recommended. After all, that's the one that won a couple of Isis Awards! __Originally written in June, 2006. Revised, January, 2012 holycrapsixyearswhat._

* * *

It's only Nine AM, and it's already been a painfully long, long day.

Zelenka has been driving me completely insane with his inane prattle about P3X-Z529 since five o' clock this morning.

I'm really thinking about finding a way to kill him. Nothing ostentatious, just something that looks like an accident. I should think, with my IQ, it should be fairly easy to orchestrate.

It's not the usual inane prattle that he has for everyone else, but that special brand of inane prattle that he reserves for me, and only me.

Arguing against _my_ theories, like his are better or something.

Ha! Better. That's a laugh.

I've been tempted to call him Fumbles McStupid on more than one occasion this morning, but have decided that using the same insult more than once is a waste of my magnificent vocabulary.

Regardless of how fitting said insult may be.

He's been baiting me all day.

So has Sheppard, for that matter.

Is it 'Intergalactic Pick on McKay day' or something? Did everyone else get a memo about it but me?

Sheppard really is irritating. Slightly more than Zelenka, actually. At least with Radek, I have scientific evidence with which to dispute his claims, and can then call him an idiot completely guilt free.

Not that I suffer from guilt after pointing out that someone is an idiot, but I do like to have evidence when calling someone a moron. If only so that they can't argue the point later on.

Sheppard is another story entirely.

There's really no way to combat _his_ suggestions, other than vehemently deny them.

What are his ridiculous, ludicrous and completely unfounded claims, you ask?

Well.

They're mostly about the way I turn tail and run whenever Cadman's around.

Just for the record, I most certainly do _not_ run away from her, squealing like a girl. I don't. I don't. I don't!

_Do so._

I don't have 'a thing' for her, either.

_Yeah, right._

No matter what Sheppard says.

_She's blonde, she's witty, she can trade barbs with you better than Samantha Carter. What's not to like?_

Excuse me, but did I ask for your opinion?

Hmm? Hmm?

No?

I didn't think so!

Besides, she's going out with Carson. Carson the 'sensitive', 'caring', doctor. Well, by all means, if she likes that type, good riddance!

So what if she's blonde? That has nothing to do with anything.

_Uh huh._

It doesn't!

Nothing to do with her biting wit, either.

_Keep digging._

Or the fact she can tap dance.

She doesn't make me nervous. She really doesn't. At least, not in the way Sheppard thinks she does.

I had her in my head, that's bound to leave some kind of lasting impression.

Zelenka's chattering at me again.

Have I mentioned that I'm no good at suffering fools?

In case I _didn't_, I just thought I'd let you know, I'm _really_ no good at suffering fools.

At least Zelenka's had to shut up for the most part since we've arrived in the conference room.

Only have to listen to Elizabeth now. That's not so bad, I mean-

Cadman's staring at me. It's a little hard to concentrate with her eyes trying to bore a hole through my skull.

_Why_ is she staring at me like that?

What? Do I have something in my nose?

Stealthily swipe hand across nose, just in case. False alarm.

Carson's here now, he's taken a seat next to Sheppard. He's going on about the medicinal properties of some of the plants on-

**Snap!**

Cadman broke her pencil.

_Offer her yours!_

What? Why? It's _my_ pencil!

She's recovered quickly. Has shoved the two pieces of pencil into her pocket and has made a witty remark about not knowing her own strength.

Wonder why she's so jumpy.

Ah. Yes. Yes. Carson entered the room just now. Of course. That _must_ be it. Makes perfect sense. She's obviously so enamored with the man that she-

Now she's spilled coffee on herself.

This only proves my theory.

_Disgusting. Making a spectacle of herself over Beckett. Completely appalling._

Elizabeth's talking again. Ah. Apparently it's my turn to share pearls of wisdom about the upcoming mission with the uneducated masses. Oh goodie.

All right. Only a few more minutes and then-

Dismissed. Good. Have to get back to the lab and-

Sheppard's caught up with me. Is currently teasing me about just how fast I seem to have bolted from the conference room in an effort to avoid being near Cadman for longer than necessary.

Snark at him and retort that I did no such thing, that I had lots of work to do, schematics to go over before we leave. It's got nothing to do with Cadman, nothing at all-

"Oh? Prove it."

Stop walking. "Excuse me, what? Are you an adolescent? In case you haven't noticed, I have a _job_ to do. I'm not about to go gallivanting off after Lieutenant Cadman in an effort to disprove your ridiculous theory."

And it _is_ ridiculous. Utterly, totally, completely-

He's teasing me again. He says that after all, didn't I have something to talk to her about anyway? Something I was going to send someone else to talk to her about in my place? If I'm really not avoiding her, why don't I go do it myself?

Stick nose in the air.

Fine. Fine. Fine. If me going to talk to Cadman will get him off my back, fine!

Snap at Sheppard once more, just for good measure, and then stalk off towards Cadman's quarters.


	2. Wait, What?

I've been standing outside Cadman's quarters for the past three minutes.

_Where **is** she?_

How am I supposed to prove to Sheppard that I'm not afraid of the woman if I can't track her down, hm? Answer me that!

_Thought you weren't trying to prove anything to him..._

Glance at my watch. It's been yet another minute. Seriously getting irritated now.

It has nothing to do with the fact that this morning I watched on in horror as Cadman made a fool of herself over Carson.

_Then why bother to mention it?_

Blink. Good question.

Ah! There she is! Humph, must've run into Carson in the hall on the way here, looks very flustered and panicked.

Well, no time to take pity on her current condition. I'm a busy man. I have a message to deliver and thusly, a point to prove.

"So on P3X-Z529, Teyla's told us that there's this native plant-"

Blather on for several minutes. See? I have absolutely no problem talking to her, none at all.

_Take that, Colonel John Sheppard._

"I really need to take a shower. Maybe you'd like to join-"

Blink. Blood drains from face.

_WHAT?_

Did she just ask me to _shower_ with her?

_Couldn't have said what I think she just said. No, not at all possible. The very notion is more absurd than Zelenka's ZPM Cube hypothesis!_

"What did you just say?"

She's started coughing violently.

_Oh. She didn't get to finish her sentence. That's about what I figured._

Wait.

Hold it.

She's started coughing violently!

Quick! Panic!

Thump her on the back until her airway is clear!

After a few seconds, realize I'm probably doing more harm than good and stop.

She's gasping. Brain is too busy still being wrapped around the puzzlement-

_You mean disappointment?_

-about her last unfinished statement.

She's breathing, she's had long enough to recover, must squash curiosity.

"Now, what were you saying?"

She looks sick for a second.

"I was saying that I really need to take a shower-"

_Let's not think about that imagery right there, okay?_

"Maybe you'd like to join me-"

Blink. Blink.

_Join her? Did I hear correctly?_

Turn a whiter shade of pale at this thought.

"In the mess afterwards? I mean, so we can talk about the _mission_?"

Oh. In the mess hall. Of course. Yes. Ahem. Mission. Yes.

Was that the shadow of a smirk on her face? Is she _amused_ that I'm sputtering?

_You're imagining things, she is **not** flirting with you. She has Carson, remember?_

"Yes. Yes. Fine. Fine. Mess hall. Mission. Yes."


	3. I Told You I'm Not

How long exactly does it take a woman to shower? I'm beginning to wonder.

_That's not all you're wondering, is it?_

Right. I'm also starting to wonder when exactly I began exhibiting symptoms of schizophrenia. My inner voice of reason has never been quite so vocal as it had been in the weeks since the Dart incident.

Probably going to need psychotherapy to get over _that_.

Still can't look Carson straight in the eye, and now I'm hearing voices. Just great.

I'll go mad if I stay here much longer waiting for her to show up. Fine. So, I'll go to the lab. Pick up some notes. Then come back.

* * *

Incompetent. That's what they are. Every last one of them.

Can't find _anything_ I'm looking for in the lab since the last batch of pudding headed technicians arrived.

Have recently been pleading with Weir to allow me to buy a dancing monkey and teach it how to file, as it would, no doubt, do a better job.

Request denied with a lifted eyebrow and a 'Now, Rodney, be patient with them...' attached.

Here it is. Information on the planet we're visiting today. Tucked under someone's leftover-

Never mind. I _don't_ want to know what that is.

Scribble on notebook. Take a step. Scribble. Take a step. Scribble. Step.

Mess hall. There she is. With...what was her name again?

No matter.

Don't work with her.

Learning her name is not a necessity.

She's gone by the time I've made it to sit down anyway.

Cadman's looking flustered.

_Too bad she isn't flustered over **you**_.

Ah. Carson's just entered the Mess at the far side. Of course.

Right. Down to business then. Talking about the planet we're-

She's seemed to have stopped breathing. Resist urge to wave hand in front of her face or check her vitals to make sure she's still a member of the living.

Ask if she's all right.

Oops. Did I knock the water glass over, or did she? What did she-

Oh. Of course. She wants to go change before we have to leave. Yes. Right. Should get to the Stargate myself.


	4. Really, Really Not

Prescription mattress doesn't seem to sleep as well as it used to.

Has nothing to do with nervousness about tomorrow's mission.

After all, it's not like the Voldrani are very advanced.

Not really a threat, so what reason would _I_ have to be nervous?

_Could it be because Sheppard's going to stick you with Cadman as your escort off world?_

He wouldn't _dare_.

_Oh yes he would. _

Don't be stupid. I've already proven to him that I have absolutely no problem with her.

_That didn't stop him from trying to stick you with her today on P3X-Z529._

Yes. Well. I avoided that, didn't I? I didn't need an escort around that planet anyway. It was uninhabited.

What possible reason could he have for assigning her to me tomorrow and not someone like Raustin, Smith or-

_Because he's a sadist and likes to watch you suffer..._

Oh, please. Suffering would suggest that I have a problem with her.

Which I don't.

We've already established that I don't.

_Clearly._

Don't remember mattress being quite this lumpy before. Probably have to order a new one. Typical.

Toss.

Turn.

Fluff pillow.

Stare at ceiling.

Miss my bedroom on Earth.

Had ceiling tiles to count when I couldn't sleep back on Earth.

One hundred forty-six, if I remember correctly.

Roll over.

It's not that I don't _like_ her, you understand.

It's not that at all.

Because I do.

It's the insinuation that I like her as more than a-

A-

A-

_A what, McKay? _

A friend. Yes. Yes. That's it. A _friend._

Sheppard thinks I have an interest in her that's more than platonic.

Humph. Just because he sees the world through hormone tinted glasses doesn't mean that everyone _else_ does.

Realization has struck like lightning.

_He's_ the one with the problem!

_He_ probably has a thing for her and is trying to pass it off on _me_!

It all makes sense now!

Sick, twisted, John Sheppard sense!

_Uh...huh. Right._


	5. Inconceivable!

It's been another long morning.

Not Zelenka or Sheppard's fault today, however.

This time, it's _Beckett_ who's driving me mad.

I've been having a hard time dealing with him for a while now. Ever since the Wraith Dart thing.

This is another one of those things that has nothing, I repeat, _nothing_ to do with Lieutenant Cadman.

Her invading my body and brain is just a coincidence when it comes to my sudden constant irritability with Carson Beckett.

He's talking about Cadman right now, as we make our way from the infirmary to the briefing room, and I find myself thinking of creative ways to get him to stop talking.

Several of which involve bodily injury.

I'm not _jealous_, if that's what you're thinking.

It's not in my nature.

I simply don't _do _envy.

If anything, I'm annoyed at the fact that he won't. Shut. Up.

Cadman does _this_, Cadman does _that, _Cadman said the cutest thing the last time they had dinner, Cadman is so cute when her nose crinkles up when she _laughs_...

I'm _not_ jealous!

Entering the briefing room now. Carson's managed to sit down right across from _her_ and grin at her like a mad man.

Disgusting, putrid, vile, unadulterated infatuation. That's what annoys me so badly, and what's worse?

They aren't even trying to hide it!

Look at them, smiling at each other during what's supposed to be a serious meeting!

Disgusting!

Why do women always go for _his_ type anyway?

What's wrong with _my_ type?

_You want me to start a running list?_

That won't be necessary, no. There is absolutely _nothing_ wrong with _me_, other than smart alecky little voices in my head that refuse to shut their little yaps.

And _that_ can be cured with a few dozen psychotropic medications.

_Is that a threat?_

No. It's a promise!

She's averting her eyes. Staring at her folder with such feverish concentration it might combust at any moment.

Humph! First she smiles at him and now she can't look up at him because his attention is making her so _bashful_.

_Jealous?_

Me being jealous is inconceivable.

Inconceivable!


	6. Oh, Great

I hate going off world.

Really, really loathe it.

It's not the 'gate travel, that doesn't affect me anymore.

Puddle Jumpers don't bother me much as they used to either.

Although, regardless of what Colonel Sheppard says, the inertial dampers still don't work at full capacity (if they _did_ I wouldn't suffer from that nice little lurch in my stomach whenever we took off) but I've stopped letting it bother me.

No.

What _really_ annoys me, _really_ gets under my skin, is these-

'Oh, look at the nice little planet filled with quaint villagers who wouldn't hurt a fly but suddenly go berserk and try to kill us two hours after we arrive on their planet for no apparent reason' missions.

Voldran has proven to be one of _those_ missions.

As if the fact that it's a 'Lush, green' planet and therefore caused my allergies to flare up full force the second we got here wasn't enough, it _had_ to start raining heavily after we got here.

Hurricane force winds, hail the size of golf balls and rain coming down in sheets.

Is the weather not bad enough for you yet?

All right. Chew on this.

Let's throw a bunch of suddenly irrational and inexplicably homicidal natives into the mix and see what happens, shall we?

So once again, I, Rodney McKay, Atlantis' resident genius, am running for his life like a common criminal on the lam.

Antarctica was better than _this._

Shots are ringing out all over the place. There's shouting, screaming and all manner of reassuring noises coming at me from all sides.

_Gotta get to the gate. Gotta get to the gate. Gotta get to the-_

Shit! They're already there! There's gotta be an alternate rout or-

Eyes get big. Is that Cadman lying in the mud over there!

_She's been shot! She's been shot! DO SOMETHING! DO SOMETHING! DO SOMETHING!_

Like what!

_Pick her up!_

Are you kidding? Do you know what that'll do to my back?

_Shut up, master moron! The Voldrani are closing in! PICK. HER. UP!_

But I-

_**NOW!**_

FINE!


	7. Dynamite?

Okay. Right. She has bullet wounds in her back and shoulder.

Which are bleeding quite a bit.

Which will _have_ to be treated.

By _me_, apparently, since no one else is around to do it.

Remember how much I said I hate going off world?

Well, I've decided there's something that I hate _worse_.

Small, dank, wet, cold caves.

I especially hate small, dank, wet, cold caves when I'm being forced to hide inside them with a wounded member of my team, waiting for a bunch of insane natives to stop hunting us.

But what I really hate, is the fact that she's so wounded that I'm going to have to actually-

Gulp.

_Treat_ her injuries.

_No time like the present._

So.

_Well?_

Um.

_What're you waiting for?_

I'm thinking!

_Well, while you're busy **thinking,** she's busy **bleeding**!_

Right. Right.

_HURRY!_

Give me time! I have to work around her shirt!

_Just take it off!_

Wait, what? No! I can't do that!

_Helloooooo, she's bleeding to death, I don't think she's going to care if you spot any hidden tattoos!_

She is NOT bleeding to death!

And I _highly_ doubt she has any tattoos!

All right, so I was wrong about the tattoo.

A little stick of dynamite on her low back is actually kind of-

_Cute?_

I was going to say morbid, but I suppose from a purely aesthetic view point that it's-

_Cute._

I didn't say that.

All right, I know there's a small med kit in my vest here somewhere...

Power Bar wrapper, Kleenex, Power Bar wrapper, eye drops, Power Bar wrapper, allergy pills, Power Bar wrapper-ah!

Gauze.

Okay. I took basic medical training, this should be a snap. Clean the wound and then start wrapping tightly.

Hm. Almost done with her shoulder and-

"YOWCH!"

_Awake. Awake. Awake. She's awake and you have her shirt off. She's gonna **kill** you._

Gasp. Have to finish wrapping the-

"Would you stop wriggling?"

"OW!"

"Hold still!"

She's darted up and squealed and now-

She's sitting up.

Topless.

Blink. Gulp. Avert eyes.

OW! SHE HIT ME!

With a rock!

In the head!

I probably have a mild concussion!

And I-

"What the hell did you think you were doing?"

Me? Gee, I was only trying to save her _life!_

How dare she imply that there was anything more to it than that!

Bicker. Fight. Argue.

"Shut up, McKay!"

Her hand is coming towards my lap. Her hand is coming towards-

_The **flashlight** in your lap, you idiot._

Right. Right. Right. Why is she-

Voldrani. Outside. Screaming at each other about looking for us.

Good thing I covered the mouth of the cave with some shrubbery.

_Bring us a shrubbery! Not too big, not too small..._

Now is not the time for Monty Python! We're looking at the possibility of certain death and-

Can't. Seem. To. Breathe.

Are they gone? Are they gone?

_Yes._

Still can't seem to-

Hyperventilating. I'm hyper-

PANIC!

Wheeze. Wheeze. Strangle.

Paper bag? Where'd a paper bag come-

Oh. She had one in her vest. Fine. Good.

It smells like a turkey club.

A breath in.

_Does she really have to be leaning at just that particular angle?_

A breath out.

I don't think the paper bag is helping much.

_Yeah, but you're breathing funny for a completely different reason now, aren't you McKay?_

Shut up, you.

It's not like I'm _trying_ to look.

_Yeah, but you're not trying to **not** look, either._

Breath in. Breath out.

Breathing somewhat returning to normal. We really can't afford to bicker anymore. We have to get out of here...

_Somehow._

She agrees.

"But first, you have to let me-"

_Don't think it. Don't think it. Don't think it._

"Finish dressing those injuries."

She grouses, I challenge.

She snarks, I retort.

She relents, and turns around.

Try not to burn a hole in her back with my gaze.

Never pegged Cadman as the type of Marine who'd have tattoos.

Wonder if Carter has any tattoos.

_Carter? _Carter_? Are you still hung up on that Jack O'Neill groupie? You've got a topless Cadman right in front of you, stupid! Don't look a gift marine in the mouth!_

I am not hung-

Groupie?

**GIFT** MARINE?

_Yes! She's sitting right **here**. Shirtless._

Hmph.

_And she's got a tattoo!_

I wasn't looking!

_Lies._

Besides, now that I'm done with the gauze, and she's pulling her top back on, I can't see it anyway.

Now, we have more important things to consider than her body art, like how to get to the gate.

Or more precisely, how to get around those Voldrani that are guarding the gate.

_Forget the gate, mount a rescue. _

Rescue? Are you mad? I don't-

_You have to go save your team._

No, Elizabeth will send someone after them once we get back to Atlantis.

In _fact_, if we just stick around this cave long enough, they'll send another team looking for us.

_And they'll fall into the exact same trap that **you** did. You have to go find a way to save them. _

Since when do you sound like Colonel Sheppard?

Light bulb clicks on over head.

"I've got it, a brilliant beyond brilliant idea."


	8. Not Mine

I finally have the answer to the question 'How many fools does it take to ruin a fool proof plan?'

One.

One, big, stupid, moronic fool.

Namely-

And if you ever tell ANYONE I admitted to this, I'll deny it and then later hunt you down for spreading vicious, completely unfounded rumors-

Me.

For once, it was _me_ who screwed up royally during the execution of my _own_ brilliant plan and almost cost a member of my team her life.

Cadman got shot, again, because of _me_.

Guilt doesn't much matter now though, we managed to free Sheppard and Teyla from the clutches of the Voldrani, and now, once again, I'm running for the open stargate.

This time, with Laura Cadman slumped in my arms.

Can't really even feel the pain in my back, or anywhere else, for that matter.

I've got to get her to Carson, he'll succeed where I've failed.

Get him to make her _well._

More shots ringing out. More shouts. More fighting and then-

Gate travel. Atlantis.

And a very worried looking Carson Beckett literally sprinting towards his fallen-

"Rodney, put her down!"

He's calling out for a stretcher.

He can't have her.

He won't get her out of my arms until I _know_ she's going to be ok. Until I _know_ that I haven't cost her-

Never mind. Just. Never mind. It doesn't matter. What _does_ matter, is that he _can't_ have her until I know she'll-

_Live?_

John's trying to insist that I let go of her. Trying to pry her limp body away from my soaked chest and towards the stretcher. He _can't_ have her.

_She's mine._

No. No. Not mine.

Never _mine_. Carson's.

_Damn it McKay. Let her go...your selfishness might kill her._

Carson's. Not mine.

Lay her gently on the stretcher, wince as her hand grasps blindly for-

It doesn't matter. Because she's not _mine_.

And she never will be.


	9. But Could She Be?

I'm going mad you know. Loopy. Strange in the head.

And it's all _her_ fault.

I think she enjoys infuriating me. I think she's some kind of sadist.

She's done nothing but pester, bother, irritate and annoy me all day long.

Hell, that's all she's done for the past two weeks, ever since she got out of the infirmary.

She's bickering with me right now, actually. Making it very hard to think straight.

I blame Weir for this. _She_'s the one who assigned Cadman to me, therefore, it's _all_ her fault.

Sheppard had a hand in this too, that cocky bastard. He suggested Cadman and I work together today.

Okay, so maybe all the blame doesn't lie with Elizabeth, but pretty damn close. She didn't _have_ to take Sheppard's word, did she?

No!

Sheppard should mind his own business. He's been very vocal about anything and everything Laura Cadman related ever since we got back from Voldran.

Insists that I wouldn't have acted the way I did if I didn't have feelings for her.

Told him, in not so many words, that he should butt out and that he can bite me.

Not my proudest moment, I'll admit.

The look on his face _was_ priceless however. Would've given _anything_ to have had a camera at that precise moment.

So. Here we are. She's shouting at me, and I'm shouting back and this is getting us absolutely no where.

"It's not that I can't make it work, _you_ must be doing something!"

"Oh yeah, right. If you're such a genius, why can't you figure it out regardless of my participation?"

_Because I can't think straight with you glaring at me that way that's why!_

Condescend. Shout. Yell. Insult.

She looks _pissed_.

Actually, even prettier when she's pissed. Not that I want to do this on a regular basis just to watch her turn red and rail at me in that interesting way she's doing right now or anything, but she _is_ prettier when she's pissed.

Not that I'm really expecting to get anywhere, she's still dating _Carson. Carson_ the wonderful, marvelous, kind, savior of mankind as we know it. I mean he's practically-

"No, no, no! You have to connect these two and then-"

Insult. Bicker. Argue. Shout. Kiss.

Wait.

Hold it.

Back up!

WHAT?

Body's gone clammy. How-how-how-how-

HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?

Brain's gone on extended vacation.

She's _kissing_ me.

Me.

Not Carson the Wonder Doctor.

ME!

Can't breathe. Can't breathe. Can't breathe.

_Shut up! Breathing is overrated! She's kissing you!_

Don't have time to ask why. Her arms have snaked their way around me, and mine are returning the favor.

Now I'm kissing _her_.

Blissful for several seconds before she yanks her warmth away.

Am too stunned to speak. World has taken on several different aspects it didn't have before.

She's gasping for air.

So am I.

She looks totally horrified.

Must apologize. She must've made a mistake. She didn't mean it. Have to apolog-

She's apologizing through a blush that would put a Corvette to shame.

And now, she's gone.


	10. Could I Be?

Dear God, I kissed Carson's girlfriend.

_She started it._

I kissed her. I kissed her. I kissed her.

_She kissed you back. She kissed you back. She kissed you back._

Carson's going to _kill_ me.

_Provided he ever finds out..._

Oh, he'll find out.

He's most _definitely_ going to find out.

All of Atlantis will find out.

After all, _Brown_ found out.

I didn't know that botanists could hit quite so _hard._

She must work out or something.

And Zelenka knows.

Hell, Zelenka witnessed the aftermath of the-

Gulp.

Kiss.

He came into the lab maybe ten minutes later and thought I might have suffered a stroke or something.

Said he waved his hand in front of my face for a good twenty seconds and I was unresponsive.

Lucky I came out of it when I did.

_Really_ lucky that he didn't call Beckett in to check on me, or force me to go to the infirmary.

I kinda suspect he _knew_ what had just happened, especially after that look he gave me when he mentioned Cadman.

Is it my fault my eyes glazed over immediatly at the mere mention of her name?

Is it?

No!

So yes, Brown knows. Zelenka knows. Sheppard _suspects._

That what's-her-face I keep seeing with Cadman keeps grinning at me like a Cheshire cat too.

Only a matter of time before the whole damned base knows.

All right, so _now_ what to do?

We fought.

She kissed me.

I kissed her back.

She pulled away.

I sputtered.

She ran.

What does it _mean_?

She's got Carson, so why, _why_ did she kiss me?

Is she ill? Does she have a tumor or something? I mean, I know she's been clumsy as of late, but I thought it was because of-

Realization hits _hard_.

Ouch.

She was staring at _me_ when she spilled her coffee and broke her pencil.

Staring at _me_ when she tipped over her water glass.

She reached for _me_ when we got back from Voldran.

It wasn't Carson that was causing it at all.

It was _me_.

ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME!

Wait.

Oh.

Shit.

Am I in love with her?

_Feeling a little slow today, are we Rodney?_

Do I even know what love _is?_

Okay, so _yes._ I'm in love with her.

At least, I _think_ I'm in love with her.

I mean, I'm pretty sure I-

_Shut up and admit it already..._

Yes. Yes. I'm in love with her. Okay? You happy? All you nasty little meddling voices in my head satisfied now?

I'm in love with her.

Wait.

Does she love you?

I have to find out.

What if she doesn't?

I've gotta find her.

Sheppard will know where she is, after all, he's her commanding-

She's where?

WITH BECKETT?


	11. She's What?

I can't believe she's with Carson.

After she kissed _me_ she has the nerve to go to Beckett!

Well, we'll just see about that! She kissed _me_! Not him, ME!

Stalk purposefully to Doctor Beckett's quarters.

He thinks she's his? Ha! Not now! She's _mine_ now, she kissed me!

_A little overly possessive for just a kiss, don't you think_?

Shut up, you. I thought you _wanted_ this to happen?

Bang on the door.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"Ah, Carson, I was told I could find Lieutenant Cadman here. May I-"

WHAM.

He punched me in the face!

_Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow._

"What the hell was _that_ for?"

_My nose, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow._

"I don't remember that part of the Hippocratic oath! Look at this! I'm bleeding! You probably did permanent damage to my sinuses-"

He's got me by the collar and has shoved me against the wall. Why has he got me by the collar and shoved me against the wall?

"Listen here, lad."

_Lad? Where does he get off calling me 'lad'?_

"Laura's in a very delicate condition right now-"

Oh no, she's pregnant?

"Very emotionally vulnerable-"

Oh...false alarm, not pregnant. Thank God. I would've had to _kill_ Carson if she had been.

"Now if you go in there, spoutin' off and hurt her, I'll hurt _you_."

What, the broken nose not enough?

"Do you understand?"

Nod dumbly.

He's glaring at me so fiercely I think I might just catch fire if he keeps it up.

He stalks off looking massively pissed.

What was _that_ about?

Enter his quarters.

There's Cadman.

She's been...crying?

Why? Was that-

She...

Oh. Whoa. She just broke up with him, didn't she?

That's what she was doing here...

Not a secret rendezvous with her lover. She was breaking up with him so that-

So that we...

So that the two of _us_...

Oh God. I suddenly feel like I'm going to puke.

"McK..." She gulps. "Rodney?"

Panic!

"I...uh...I have to go."

Flee!


	12. I Am

I was going to propose the second it got here, but I didn't.

Instead, I waited. Figuring I'd do it on Wednesday.

Didn't do it on Wednesday, either.

Thought I'd do it on Thursday. Didn't do it on Thursday.

_No. Did something **entirely** different on Thursday._

Did I mention that Thursday is now my favorite day of the week?

Now it's Friday.

And she's leaving.

And I'm about to be a million miles away from her.

Well, okay, so more like three hundred thousand, one hundred fifty-seven.

Not that I'm counting or anything.

Because I'm not.

Shut up. I'm not.

The ring's in my pocket. Safe and snug in a black velvet box.

Had Lieutenant April help me pick it out.

Didn't trust Sheppard's taste.

Or Teyla's.

Considering what her last bit of jewelry did, definitely didn't trust Teyla's taste.

Ordered it via data burst to earth about three months ago.

Even though we weren't 'officially' dating, I ordered it anyway. Just as a precaution.

_Always be prepared, is that it Rodney?_

Inner voice is very vocal today.

I've abandoned worrying about it being there. Instead, I'm worrying about _who_ it's starting to sound like.

Inner voice of reason that_ used _to sound like Samantha Carter has recently begun to sound like Laura Cadman.

The woman's burrowed her way under my skin and isn't showing any signs of leaving.

Damn her. Damn her to hell for making me this way.

_You don't mean that..._

Oh, yes I do. I do. I do. I do.

For a week and a half after she kissed me and Carson punched me, I could barely see straight.

I also couldn't get the song '_I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend_' out of my head.

I spent much of that first week after 'the kiss' cursing my Ramones obsessed college roommate of three weeks, Richard Langly.

She said hello to me in the hallway one day.

Then started plunking herself down at my table for lunch everyday.

The woman was stalking me, I'm telling you.

_Not that you were complaining, or anything._

Many arguments and conversations later, we started dating. Still not sure how that happened.

Also cursed the Ramones as a whole, since after we began dating, couldn't stop hearing '_I Want You Around._'

Either way, it's been six months since we first met and I'm-

Well-

Anyway-

So, back to the ring.

Which, because of my procrastination, I may never get to give to her.

She won't be coming back to Atlantis for six months.

A lot can happen in six months.

Especially when you're in the Pegasus galaxy facing certain death on a daily basis.

Been snapping at every single person on the team today. If they'd hurry up and finish what they're doing I could get back to Atlantis before she's gone.

But no, everyone's taking their sweet time about it. It's just a farming community for crying out loud! Not the next city of the Ancients! It shouldn't be this difficult! It shouldn't be moving this slowly, I-

We can leave?

WE CAN LEAVE!

Try not to sprint to Puddle Jumper.

Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?

YES!

Dash through Stargate. Run towards Puddle Jumper that's about to depart. Fumble in pocket for box that seems far too small for my hands to get ahold of.

"Stop! Wait! Laura!"

Can't seem to catch my breath.

"Will you-"

Remind self to breathe.

"I mean, would you consider-"

Stop in front of her.

"I mean I know I'm not-"

Watch as she looks at me strangely. Fight the urge to pass out. Open black velvet box. Watch as her eyes get huge.

"Marry me?"

She's stunned and she-

Thud.

_Great, McKay. You killed her._


	13. And So is She

I'll never understand where the phrase 'Cold Feet' came from, especially when used in relation to grooms.

If anything, I'm uncomfortably _warm_.

Stupid wool suit that doesn't breathe.

And this stupid bow tie is strangling me.

Did Carson really have to tie it so tightly that it's cutting off the circulation to my brain? Hmm? My brain is my biggest asset, starving it of oxygen is _not_ a good thing.

Yes, before you ask, we're back on speaking terms. Me and Carson. Unbelievable, isn't it? You'd think that after he bashed my face in (my sinuses still make this kind of wheezy noise when I take a deep breath in) that we'd never speak to each other again.

Of course, things are different here on Atlantis. You come to realize that the few friends you _do_ have, you need to try and _keep_.

Plus, I had the flu. I couldn't avoid the infirmary anymore.

It was a win-win scenario.

So now, here I am, waiting at the foot of the ramp that leads up to the Stargate, Carson to my left as my best man, Lieutenant April across from me as Laura's maid of honor, and Elizabeth between, ready and waiting to officiate.

Oh, God. There she is.

I'm breathless.

In her white wedding gown, she's so...so...

_Pretty? Magnificent? Beautiful? Amazing? Incredible? I can keep going if you want..._

All of the above. None of the above. Everything in between.

Indescribable, that's what she is. No thesaurus in the world holds enough adjectives to depict her properly.

Uh oh. Hyperventilating.

"Hy-hyper-paper bag-Cars-paaaaper ba-"

Wheeze, wheeze, wheeze.

Oh good. A non-turkey club smelling paper bag.

Breath in. Breath out.

How the hell did _I_ get this lucky? How did it come to be me that she's coming down the aisle towards, and not someone more deserving?

Breath in. Breath out.

_You're plenty deserving she-_

Oh, no I'm not. No, I'm most definitely not. I don't deserve her. I know it. She knows it. Everyone knows it.

And yet, there she is. Walking down the aisle, towards me, looking like I don't know what, Sheppard at her side and-

I don't like the way he keeps glancing at her.

Could they move any slower? Each step she takes seems to make her even further away.

Oh..well, that could be the oxygen depravation making me hallucinate. Of course.

She's finally here.

Sheppard kissed her on the cheek!

Glare at him.

Back off pal, in a few minutes she'll be mine for **life**.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Rodney McKay and Laura Cadman."

She's smiling that luminous smile of hers. The one that, for some reason, makes my toes all tingly.

Hurry up, would you, Elizabeth? I want to be married already!

"Do you, Rod-"

"I do."

Oops. Seemed to have jumped the gun a bit there. I can't help it, I'm excited!

"So do I."

Ah ha! So is she! She's blushing prettily, hazel eyes sparkling at me.

"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you Husband and Wife."

_Husband and Wife, Rodney and Laura, Husband and Wife, Husband and Wife._

"You may kiss the bride."

Oh _may_ I? Gee, I was actually going to ask for permission.

Kiss my _bride._

_Mine. Mine. Mine. Allllll mine._

Pull away reluctantly.

"Ladies and Gentleman, it is my pleasure to present, Doctor Rodney and Mrs. Laura McKay."

The crowd cheers.

She's smiling at everyone.

God, I want to kiss her again.

And again.

And again.

And not stop until I die from oxygen deprivation.

There'll be plenty of time for that _later_.

Time for the reception now.

Which goes by far too slowly for my liking.

Do I really have to go over here and let her talk with Jamie April? Do I have to stand here and make pleasant conversation with Carson right now? Can't I go stick to her side like a leech? Please?

She _is_ mine now after all. It should be my prerogative.

_Uh huh, and you're hers..._

I belong to no one...that I'll ever admit to anyway.

But just between you and I...

I _do_.

_All of me, why not take all of me, can't you see, I'm no good without you?_

That's an old joke. A fitting joke, considering our history, but an old one regardless.

Not that I mind.

Oh? Time for the toast already?

And here I was enjoying listening to Carson prattle about the engagement ring he got for April. So what if it's a sheep sheerer heirloom?

It's still no-where near as nice as the one I got for My Laura.

_'My' Laura?_

Yes. _My_ Laura. For now, and for always.

Okay. Toast time.

Weir's being maternal. Sheppard's being an ass. Carson's being...ugh.._sweet_.

She's clutching my hand and smiling that hundred watt smile.

Is she _trying_ to crush all the bones in my hand? I need those, you know!

_Shut up, you don't mind._

You're right. I don't.

Raise my glass and-

She's managed to spill champagne on her dress.

Never been such a pretty stain. This time, I know _I'm_ to blame for all her wardrobe related accidents of the past few months.

I'll gladly take the blame for _that_ from now on.

* * *

_A/N: As with its predecessor, this story contained numerous pop culture references. They were from: The Princess Bride, Ghostbusters, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, The Ramones, the Lone Gunmen, and the film, as well as the song, All of Me._

_"I'm Not!/And Neither Am I!" may be over, but my Laura/Rodney pairing gets on last hurrah in the story "Waking." It stands alone, definitely, but is also a wonderful companion piece. Thanks again, you guys, for making my welcome to this fandom so very, very warm and being all around great people. :D_


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